Windhaven

At last they came to a branching corridor, set with heavy wooden doors. At one of these doors they stopped, and the guards removed the heavy bars that locked it. Inside was a small stone cell with a rough pallet on the floor and one high, round window. Leaning against the wall was a young woman with long, pale blond hair. Her lips were swollen, one eye blackened, and there were bloodstains on her clothes. It took Maris a few moments to recognize her.

"Tya," she said, wondering.

The landsguard left them, bolting the door behind them, with the assurance they would be right outside if anything was needed.

While Maris still stared, uncomprehending, Evan went to Tya's side. "What happened?" he asked.

"The Landsman's bullies were none too gentle about arresting me," Tya said in her cool, ironic voice. She might have been speaking about someone else. "Or maybe it was my mistake to fight them."

"Where are you hurt?" Evan asked.

Tya grimaced. "From the feel of it, they broke my collarbone. And chipped a tooth. That's all — just bruises, otherwise. All that blood came from my lips."

"Maris, my kit," said Evan.

Maris carried it to his side. She looked at Tya. "How could he arrest a flyer? Why?"

"The charge is treason," Tya said. Then she gasped as Evan's fingers probed around her neck.

"Sit," said Evan, helping her down. "It will be better."

"He must be mad," Maris said. The word called up the ghost of the Mad Landsman of Kennehut. In grief, hearing of his son's death in a far-off land, he had murdered the messenger who flew the unwelcome news. The flyers had shunned him afterward, until proud, rich Kennehut became a desolation, ruined and empty, its very name a synonym for madness and despair. No Landsman since would dream of harming a flyer. Until now.

Maris shook her head, gazing at Tya but not really seeing her. "Has he lost his reason so far as to imagine that the messages you carry from his enemies come from your own heart? To call it treason is wrong in itself. The man must be mad. You aren't subject to him — he knows that flyers are above petty local laws.

As his equal, how could you do anything treasonous? What does he say you did?"

"Oh, he knows what I did," Tya said. "I don't claim I was arrested on false pretenses. I simply didn't expect him to find out. I'm still not sure how he knew, when I thought I'd been so careful." She winced.

"But now it's all for nothing. There will be war, just as fierce and bloody as if I'd stayed out of it."

"I don't understand."

Tya grinned at her. Her black eyes were still sharp and aware despite her bruises and her obvious pain.

"No? I've heard that some old-time flyers could carry messages without knowing what they said. But I always knew— each belligerent threat, each tempting promise, each potential alliance for war. I learned things I had no intention of saying. I changed the messages. Slightly, at first, making them a little more diplomatic. And returned with responses that would delay or sidestep the war he was after. It was working — until he found out about my deception."

"All right, Tya," Evan said. "No more talking just now. I'm going to set your collarbone, and it will hurt.

Can you hold still, or do you want Maris to help hold you down?"

"I'll be good, healer," Tya said. She took a deep breath.

Maris stared blankly at Tya, hardly believing what she had just heard. Tya had done the unthinkable — she had altered a message entrusted to her. She had meddled in land-bound politics, instead of staying above them as a flyer always did. The mad act of jailing a flyer no longer seemed so mad — what else could the Landsman have done? No wonder he had been so disturbed by Maris'

presence. When word reached other flyers…

"What does the Landsman plan to do with you?" Maris asked.

For the first time, Tya looked somber. "The usual punishment for treason is death."

"He wouldn't dare!"

"I wonder. I was afraid that he planned to bury me here, kill me secretly and silence the landsguard who had arrested me. Then I would simply vanish, and be presumed lost at sea. But now that you have been here, Maris, I don't think he can. You would denounce him."

"And then we would both hang, as treasonous liars," said Evan. His tone was light. More seriously, he added, "No, I think you are right, Tya. The Landsman would not have sent for me if he meant to kill you in secret. Much easier just to let you die. The more people who know of your arrest, the greater the danger to himself."

"There's flyer's law — the Landsman has no right to judge a flyer," Maris said. "He'll simply have to turn you over to the flyers. A court will be called, and you'll be stripped of your wings. Oh, Tya. I never heard of a flyer doing such a thing."

"I've shocked you, Maris, haven't I?" Tya smiled. "You can't see beyond the horror of breaking tradition — not even you? I told you you were no one-wing."